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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28981659">Where One's Loyalty Lies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor/pseuds/Scriptor'>Scriptor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Turn (TV 2014), Turn: Washington's Spies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Do the right thing, Enemies to Lovers, Episode Fix-it, Fix-It, M/M, There will be sexytimes, savior worship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:55:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28981659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor/pseuds/Scriptor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How did they get here?</p>
<p>Ben pulled it off; he rescued Andre from the noose. </p>
<p>Now what?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John André/Benjamin Tallmadge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. For Just a Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on 3x10. I have never written a fix-it before but for the love of all that is holy, John Andre did not have to die! I apologize for anything that may seem OOC. I strive to be accurate to the time and the characters of the show while at the same time, finding a way to put my two favorite characters in compromising positions. I played with episode chronology a bit but forgive me. Maybe it was just me but I felt like these two had chemistry!</p>
<p>Starts slow then backtracks. Hang in there with me; have not written this before.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ben had to chuckle a little at the irony. Here he sat, in Sarah’s modest home, hiding from, well, everyone. He never meant for Sarah’s life to end how it did but he was betrayed by her and he saw it fitting that the home where she kindly took him in, mended him, gave him food and temporary companionship, now served to shelter he and and John Andre. His head spun pondering the intricacies of this war; loyalty, ideals, foundational beliefs. Was not every action taken, in some way, to preserve these tenets of life?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John lay nursing a very sore neck and resting on the very same bed that Ben had when he was wounded. They’d traveled miles and miles, the adrenaline pumping through their veins, worried they were being tracked. Ben did not have a true plan at this point aside from running. He hoped Washington had some way of rationalizing the legality of the prisoner exchange. After all, what Andre did was technically illegal but so was Arnold’s treason. Could it be possible to cancel each other out? Of course, Ben had no idea what that all meant, for him, for John, for Peggy. For life after war. No one knew the future but decisions needed to be made for some kind of forward progress and this here was all he could muster.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I… have to thank you, Major Tallmadge.” Andre said, sitting up in bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ben, please. After this, I think we’ve moved beyond the pleasantries.” Ben laughed quietly. Through their escape, Andre sat behind him on the horse as darkened trees rushed past them, holding onto the younger and smaller man’s waist for dear life. Their familiarity with each grew from that shared experience and Ben needed more of it. Here in this home everything felt on another plane; for now they were safe. For now they were alone and all the horrors of war were absent, if only for a brief time.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Spy vs spy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What happened prior</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just cobbling this together. It felt good at first and now I feel a little lost. More coming soon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Days before...</p><p>Ben left Washington’s tent even more conflicted than before. The ring was everything and bringing Abe back in was crucial to their efforts. But there was something nagging at his conscience; as Washington admitted, he’d trade a hundred Arnolds for one Andre. So then, why must he hang? In Ben’s heart of hearts, he knew it sent a message. No spies from the British army would be permitted to permeate their ranks, worm their way in and endanger the mission of freedom, liberty, and what all Patriots knew was right and good. But still, there was something in Andre’s eyes, the way they conveyed a deep sorrow. He truly was, as Washington said, doing his job as an officer of his army. How many acts had Ben committed under that assumption, that allowance?</p><p>That meeting between Andre and Washington was intense. It was the first time Ben truly laid eyes on Andre and every little power play they'd engaged in during the war so far came rushing back to him. The chess game they'd played all these months, the cunning wits, the cleverly contrived notions of how to safely transport information. Finally being in Andre's presence had a profound effect on Ben, one he didn't see coming. He had immense respect for his post and his craft. He was embarrassed by his reaction to seeing Andre in plainclothes and being scrutinized by his gaze. There was something so compelling about the man.</p><p>Irritated at the entire situation, he tromped through camp, taking stock of how everything felt in disarray after Arnold’s act of treachery. Ben kicked himself for not seeing it before; Arnold was quick to anger, greedy, too egotistical for his own good. He felt entitled to reparations for any military success. Who wasn’t owed?, Ben thought. He too had success. He helped initiate the Culper Ring, he moved up through the ranks because of his cunning instincts and determination. But what did he ever ask for? Not a thing. He reasoned that anything that made absolute sense, would surely come out in his discussions with Washington. And in the end, he had the final word.</p><p>Ben couldn’t help but think that there was a sliver of hope here; Washington could still trade Andre for Arnold and then they could carry out punishment for his treason as they saw fit, Alas, Ben knew he’d have to find something - anything - that could overturn the eventuality of Andre hanging as a detested spy. Was not Ben, then, a spy also? They all were and Ben to be blamed above all, as head of intelligence. It felt unfair. War was unfair but this felt somehow different.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Imminent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Andre’s trial was short and to the point; none of the members of the board saw reason to absolve him of his sins and crimes against America and so, he was to hang. Ben’s heart sank but he could not, for the life of him, figure out why this felt so wrong. Perhaps it was the way Ms. Shippen - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arnold</span>
  </em>
  <span> - looked at him before, her beautiful yet sad eyes expressed a longing that Ben didn’t quite understand but was still present. As he later led Abigail to Andre, the entire situation weighed heavily. He saw how much Abigail meant to John - as she certainly had to him and his ring - and that connection they shared made him nearly sob. Andre’s sincerity belied something true and honorable about him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He rode with Andre to the gallows and a feeling he’d never experienced before hid just behind his admiration for the man’s war efforts, as well as his immense talent. As they rode closer to fate, John sketched an amazing likeness of Ben. Each time his eyes passed over Ben’s face, his figure, Ben felt scrutinized in a way both embarrassing and enjoyable. Perhaps something in John’s gaze opened the door then, for Ben to explore an emotion that felt so foreign. Admiration, yes, but perhaps, attraction. In that carriage ride, something changed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Andre showed Ben the drawing and he looked it over with near tears at its specificity and attention to detail, he cleared his throat and spoke low,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to try to convince Washington that it is our duty to exact punishment upon Arnold; I’m going to angle for a prisoner exchange.” Andre’s expression said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please now, that’s impossible. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Now listen, I know you've been convicted but there is yet hope. I don’t know how, but I will try to get this taken care of.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Major Tallmadge, I appreciate your ambition but it is to be my fate. As we’ve sat here, together, I’ve come to terms with that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben leaned forward, his knees brushing against Andre’s and halting the momentum of the conversation, causing his heart to race. Silly boy, he told himself, don’t let him get to you. This is important. Ben steeled himself and leaned in yet again, not allowing himself to falter at his previous gaffe. He settled even just a little too close to Andre.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you look at me and… I… I find life there, goodness. I don’t think it is right for you to be hanged.” Ben knew it was perhaps hasty to let his emotions loose in this way but he felt too compelled, under the scrutinous eye of this man.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Andre too leaned in, hanging his head and letting out a long steady sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“War makes victims of us all. I allowed myself to fall victim to her beauty, her love.” Andre gestured to the sketch of just her eyes on the page below Ben’s form. “For all the women - and… men - I’ve loved, I have never fallen as hard as I did when I laid eyes on Peggy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was a confession, Ben realized. Maybe in light of the fact John believed he’d still be killed in mere hours. Maybe because John found something in Ben that made this all the easier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can still find a way. Wait. I shall talk to Washington.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Do or Die</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A wooden cart sat solemnly below a tree bearing a noose. Ben’s heart raced as they approached the scene of John Andre’s impending death, mulling over his coach confession. The man had loved Peggy, that much was true. And silly as it felt, he’d loved men and the desire that had been building between them in their few and brief meetings made Ben feel something like… hope? Optimism? The correct and just thing to do was being exacted here and now; he broke the law. But in his heart, he could not help but feel like love was a reason to break one’s shackles, even if they be tied to the country of your affiliation. </p>
<p>As soon as they exited, Ben headed towards where Washington stood and before he could speak, was handed a letter detailing Arnold’s plan to harm American soldiers, now that he had successfully defected to the redcoats. Anger stirred within him, layered upon his frustration at this execution, at his misplaced feelings for Andre. He shoved the letter back into Washington’s hands and seethed, “We have to do the right thing. You know it.”</p>
<p>George looked upon him with stoicism, as he always did. Sometimes his face looked that of a stern father and at other times, a true confidant. Now, he telegraphed hardly anything of what he felt but Ben knew he heard him… and believed he may yet have a plan.</p>
<p>As Andre’s sentence was read aloud, Ben noticed that Peggy was amongst the crowd, her eyes blurred by tears, her once happy and hopeful face, pained. They both looked upon this man for different reasons but with the same purpose: hope for his life. As the death sentence was read aloud, it was emphasized that  should his neck not break upon fall, it would be merciful to pull down on his legs to quicken his death. In that moment, as the words rang out amongst the gathered crowd, Ben looked into Washington’s eyes and attempted to communicate his intention. In a fraction of a second, the hangman urged Andre off the cart and the strands of the tightly wound noose squeezed upon his neck. However, as Ben had hoped, he did not die instantly and as his eyes met Washington’s once more, Ben charged the cart, lifting up Andre’s body to relieve the pressure. He heard the man’s eager gasp for air as he struggled to keep his body weight aloft.</p>
<p>A cacophony of chatter broke out across the crowd, men shouting of the injustice, ladies gasping, others muttering vows of disbelief. A few soldiers came to Ben’s aid when they witnessed his act of courage and helped to get Andre’s feet securely back onto the platform of the wagon. He groaned in pain as his body slumped, gulping for more air. Everything happened so quickly: the fall, the rescue, Peggy sobbing nearby in Ben’s peripheral vision, and Washington yelling angrily at his soldiers and others, convincing them that there must be a prisoner exchange - Arnold should be returned to them and tried as a traitor. In the confusion, Ben saw an out; no one was paying them any mind. The majority of the crowd had dispersed and the men and soldiers on one side were engaged in a verbal war with the other. Ben got Andre to his feet and cut the ropes that bound his wrists. Peggy approached him, removing the handkerchief from his eyes and falling into his now freed arms. Ben watched as they embraced for the first time in months, their affection for one another clear and obvious but also, fleeting now as Ben needed to get Andre far from here, to help him to escape.</p>
<p>“I will see to it he’s safe. I’ll be in touch.”</p>
<p>Peggy gathered herself and nodded, understanding the ramifications of all of this. She took one last look upon John Andre and turned to play her role in all this: she never saw a thing. Did not know which way he went.</p>
<p>Ben had not been sure before what his eventual plan would be so stealing a horse nearby and galloping off into the woods was the only real choice. He knew he might be safe once he got back to camp but they’d hunt him, hunt them both. One does not escape death so easily.</p>
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